Love Like Oxygen
by maple the wacky tree
Summary: Ep 8 alternate ending: Haruhi was still trying to sort out her thoughts of what happened last night. Spending an afternoon watching questionable TV shows wasn't helping. "If I have to watch the awkward mating rituals of giraffes ONE MORE TIME-!"


**A/N:**I'M BACK FROM THE DEAD!

Or not. Actually, to be perfectly fair, I didn't write this recently. I wrote this particular oneshot a while ago, and only just rediscovered it when I was backing up my old fanfics and perusing through them. I had promised this oneshot to the 200th reviewer of Crystal Clear. She/he requested a remake of episode 8, so that there was a scene where Haruhi was just sorting out her feelings of what happened between her and Kyouya right before the thunderstorm. And I wrote it, but for some reason I forgot to upload it. ^^; Now THAT'S a blond moment if I ever did see one. So, after a year and then some, I've finally been able to post this. I apologize to whoever requested it that it took so ridiculously long to fufill my promise, but it's here now!

I hope this satisfies what you wished for. There were several directions that I wanted to go in, but at the time I think I was in my short-lived SHINee phase, so I could never get "Love like Oxygen" out of my head. This story is completely unrelated to the lyrics, but I always sort of mused over the name of the title. And that musing produced this!

So, I hope everyone enjoys it. It's certainly not my best, but it was one of those things where if I stalled and wasted time trying to edit it, it probably would NEVER be uploaded. Moving along, does this oneshot necessarily mean that I'm going to be writing more this summer? Quite honestly, probably not. I'll try, but no promise. But thanks to everyone who continue to support me and review my old works. Means a lot to me as I try to battle real life. It really does.

DISCLAIMER: don't own this.

* * *

Love Like Oxygen

Haruhi sat in the darkness, with only the TV as her source of light. A blanket was wrapped around her so that only her face was uncovered, like a little Eskimo. She was still in her pajamas, and she hadn't even tamed her massive bedhead even though it was well into the afternoon. The beach house was quiet, save for the television show. All the other hosts were outside, enjoying the beach. She knew she should be too. It was their last day, after all. But something had held her back today, made her lie that she wasn't feeling good and wanted to avoid the sun for a while.

"Soooo bored," she groaned, pushing her too big glasses up the bridge of her nose. This was why she usually avoided watching TV. But she had thought she was going to be spending most of her time outside. She hadn't thought ahead enough to bring books. She didn't think she was going to get the peace and time for it.

She could really use some Calculus right now. It would dull the other thoughts swirling in her head.

Sighing, Haruhi picked up the remote and half-heartedly flipped through the channels. There was the news, a cooking show, a fast-paced chase scene that had blood flying everywhere. Haruhi shuddered and changed quickly.

"Oh? Is this a comedy?" she wondered as she watched one of the characters flail around in exaggerated movements. "I can handle a comedy."

But then the scene jumped to a somber looking couple staring each other down. The girl's eyes were bulging.

"What the—?" Haruhi mumbled, but then the guy started talking.

"Did you hear me?" the guy pleaded, starting to step towards the girl, but she took a step back in shock. "I said I love you. I said I can't be without you! Are you really still going to leave like this?"

"I have to go," the girl told him, her eyes welling up.

"Having you gone will kill me! Don't you understand? I need you like I need oxygen. I love you like oxygen!"

"A love like oxygen?" Haruhi repeated, pushing up her slipping glasses again. She snorted. "What does that even _mean?"_ But then she sat straight up, the back of her neck going hot. The guy had grabbed the girl, pulled her into a passionate kiss. Without resisting, the girl frantically kissed him back, and they teetered over to a bed that Haruhi hadn't noticed before. They fell back, started rolling around—

"WAH!" Haruhi shouted, hurriedly flipping to a channel ten stations away. The next channel must have been a nature show. The screen showed a sloth sluggishly crawling through a tree upside-down.

"Safe," Haruhi breathed out in relief.

She didn't want to remember.

"You have an interesting taste in TV programs."

"Eh?" Haruhi jumped and whirled around. Her mouth fell open.

But it seems she wasn't allowed to forget.

"K-kyouya-sempai," she stammered, eyeing him warily in the darkness. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with the others?"

He lifted his glass to her, and she could hear ice clinking around. "I came back for water. Although I needed a break from the sun anyway. It would be rather undesirable to return to school looking like some ridiculous lobster. Of course, none of the other idiots would listen."

"O-oh . . ." Haruhi replied lamely. She tried to obscure most of her face with the blanket.

It didn't seem to do much good. Kyouya leaned over a little, studying her. "Haruhi, do you always look like this when you're lounging around at home?" he asked. Haruhi felt a vein throbbing in her left temple. "It's a little disturbing, actually. The twins would be ashamed."

"What's the point in getting dressed if I'm just sitting around?" Haruhi asked hotly. She burrowed a little further in her blanket. "Now, if you're done making fun of me, then bugger off. You're disturbing my television watching."

She could hear him huff in amusement behind her, but she refused to look back at him. Her shoulders started to relax when she heard his footsteps walking away, but just when she had dropped her guard, Kyouya came on the other side of the couch and sat down.

"What is this show even about?" he asked, although he sounded the furthest from interested.

Haruhi just gaped at him, wide-eyed.

"Haruhi?" Kyouya glanced over at her, saw her deer-in-headlights expression, and frowned. His eyes were obscured by the blue and green lights of the television. "What's wrong?"

The first few attempts to talk yielded nothing but embarrassing noises. So Haruhi cleared her throat, scooted to the edge of the couch farthest away, and blurted out, "You're talking to me." Which was a rather inane thing to say. Haruhi cursed herself under her breath as he cocked an eyebrow at her.

"It's not like I've never talked with you on a one-on-one basis before, Haruhi," he stated.

"I-I didn't mean that . . . it's just . . . well—" Haruhi glanced down at her hands sheepishly. "I just didn't think you would watch with me."

"True, I really don't watch television all that much. It tends to be a waste of my time," he sighed. "But that doesn't mean I can't watch it every now and then." He sat comfortably, with none of his usual posture. _Shows just how much he thinks of me_, Haruhi thought bitterly. _He must think I'm not worth impressing._ She touched her bed-head ruefully. But she tried to be polite, to laugh even though it was obvious she was nervous.

"Yeah, I don't really watch much either," Haruhi said. "But I have nothing better to do, so—GAH!" The girl stared in horror at the screen as two giraffes engaged in very awkward sex rituals. She flipped the channels in a panic until they found themselves in the midst of a ping pong match.

_Alright. If they start doing it on the ping pong table, I'm going to go crazy_, Haruhi thought to herself, breathing heavily.

"You seem unusually high-strung today, Haruhi."

"Huh?" She looked to her Sempai, and the weak light just barely illuminated his smirk.

"I wonder why," he said a little too lightly.

Haruhi went red, and unwillingly her mind transported her to another dark room. The silver television light became the soft hue of moonlight. The girl could feel her back pressed against downy linens, cold, long fingers pinning down her wrists. Trembling.

Before her face could reveal too much, Haruhi summoned her mind back to the present and said with blank sarcasm, avoiding Kyouya's gaze, "I don't know, Kyouya. Why _would_ I suddenly feel _uncomfortable_ around you? I'm sure it's just your imagination."

"So you _do_ feel uncomfortable around me?" Kyouya asked with obvious pleasure, and Haruhi bit back a swear. She continued to ignore him, hoping he would lose interest. But of course Kyouya wouldn't lose interest. That would be akin to losing a challenge. She and he both knew he hated losing.

Kyouya leaned over and took the remote, Haruhi's hand still trapped underneath. He turned off the television without a single word. When the lights went out, Haruhi's chest started fluttering frantically. She remembered the touch of his cold hands, his bare chest. A little desperately, the girl tried to free her hand and the remote, struggling to turn the television back on.

"Let . . . me . . . go!" Haruhi grunted as she fought back.

The remote was yanked out of her grasp. Haruhi almost found herself crying out, but then the TV flipped back on again, and the room filled suddenly with its light, almost like a slap to the face. Haruhi gaped at Kyouya, who was inspecting the remote with a frown and flipping through the channels.

"You know, Haruhi, I'm surprised in you," he said, watching the channels go by without really seeing them. "You seemed so sure of yourself last night. Why do you feel so uncomfortable now? You said it yourself. What happened last night was a fluke. A . . . _lesson_, as you put it." Haruhi noticed that his lips curled a little on the word, but before she could comment, he continued. "I didn't mean any of it at all, so you have no need to be anxious. You can even forget it if it makes you feel better."

"_Forget_ it?" Haruhi replied incredulously, before she could help herself. She lowered her voice and leaned in a little closer. "Kyouya-sempai!" She said, hissing behind her hand. Pausing just long enough to make sure no one was around, she whispered, "You and I . . . we almost . . . well—"

"Had sex, yes," Kyouya finished in a normal tone, causing Haruhi to flinch and shush him with a finger to her lips.

"Do you want to get killed by Tamaki?" She asked. "He nearly murdered you last night already."

"You know, you never really answered my question," Kyouya said, changing the topic smoothly.

"Huh? Uh . . . what question again?"

The glare on his glasses had never seemed so harsh. For a moment, he didn't even look human. He was too calm. Too emotionless. A shadowy observer. "Why do you feel so uncomfortable around me now?"

Haruhi gaped helplessly at him, feeling pinned by his gaze. "I'm . . . not . . . uncomfortable," she said slowly.

"Like hell. You can't even manage a proper conversation with me at the moment." He turned his attention back to the TV and grumbled, "It's rather irritating."

Irritating?

Is that what he called it? Haruhi wondered at that particular comment.

"I honestly swear that I'm okay around you. That nothing's changed between us, if that makes you feel better," she said, still not quite understanding _why _Kyouya was irritated in the first place. "I'm just . . . I'm just trying to figure out a few things that are confusing me, that's all."

Like why she had been so okay with what Kyouya had done, or nearly done, last night, and why she was, admittedly, so curious as to how far he truly might have gone if he had been serious at all.

Why her heart had started thrumming the minute Kyouya decided to sit down on the couch, a mere three feet between them. Which was short, by the way, Haruhi decided. Too short.

"Really?" Kyouya said sarcastically. He put down the remote. "Nothing's changed?"

"Yes," Haruhi said a little too quickly, which caused him to smirk.

"Wanna bet?"

"Huh?"

Haruhi felt him shift a little closer, and when she looked over, he was right there. Inches away. Staring at her. The glare from his glasses gone but his eyes as impassive and blank as ever.

"I'm not moving a second before you do," Kyouya murmured slowly, never blinking.

The heat flooded to her cheeks, and for a moment Haruhi almost threw her arms up to shield himself. But true to his word, Kyouya didn't make a single move to close the gap.

"Wh-what are you playing at?" Haruhi stammered.

"What's this? You can't even look me in the eye," Kyouya remarked as Haruhi tried in vain to look anywhere else. Anywhere else but in those dark eyes. "Are you nervous?" Using her distraction against her, he removed her glasses and tauntingly held them just out of reach when Haruhi made a blind grab for them. But then she realized that she couldn't get them back without getting closer, and she hesitated

"It's because you're so close!" Haruhi protested. He was too close and Haruhi couldn't see anything else but him.

"Then move away if it makes you uncomfortable," Kyouya stated. Without lessening or increasing the distance, he put an arm up against the back of the loveseat and propped up his chin with his elbow. The tilt gave his face the slightest bit of an inquisitive look, as if he were surprised Haruhi had not thought to move yet. Or that's what she thought. It was hard to read expressions when they were fuzzy and blurred. Her hand twitched, wishing for her glasses back. She felt too vulnerable blind.

"I for one am quite content right here," Kyouya continued, pressing her to speak and reveal what she wanted.

"I-in other words . . ." Haruhi said, and then quietly to herself finished, "it's a test."

Of course it was a test. The cunning bastard. But Haruhi didn't know the answers.

"Why did you have to bother me right now?" Haruhi asked in an effort to stall. "Why today? I was trying to sort out my thoughts, and you're not making it any easier!"

"Oh? What were you thinking of?"

"Kyou—" Haruhi began without thinking, but quickly caught herself. "Kyo . . . kyotouwazawa. It's a nice little beach town that my father would sometimes take me to. Really pretty."

Kyouya let out a laugh. "Kyotouwazawa? Did you just make that up?"

"N-no!"

"It's strange to see you so flustered," Kyouya said, changing the topic. "You normally seem so much calmer."

"Well, it's hard when the bloody Shadow King challenges you to a battle of wills—!"

"This is hardly a battle of wills, Haruhi," Kyouya interrupted gently, although he did chuckle a little. "Just think of it more as . . . experimentation and observation."

Haruhi started to strangle and choke out more words, but she saw that they had no effect. This wasn't working. All she could think about was the night before, when Kyouya had her pinned. And in a way, he still had her pinned.

It _infuriated_ her.

"Well?" Kyouya said impatiently, determined not to make this any easier for her.

"My answer?" Haruhi replied slowly.

Kyouya only nodded once, monitoring her expression carefully.

And she knew. She knew what she had to do. She knew! But as she reached out for Kyouya, instead of pushing him away, she felt her shaky hands curl around the front of his shirt, and then for a split second, there was no space in between them.

Haruhi jerked away and kept her eyes down, resisting the urge to scrub at her burning lips. Because that was just childish. As she burned in her humiliation, Kyouya blinked at her, seemingly surprised that she had actually dared to kiss him.

"So that's what you were thinking about all day. That's you answer," Kyouya said in a smooth, measured voice, and Haruhi decided she hated him for his undiminishing supply of coolness. No, wait, there was a tiny flaw in his mask of cool. His nose was slightly wrinkled, possibly in disgust.

Haruhi sighed and attempted to stand and walk away, unable to take the mortification any longer, but Kyouya's hand anchored her wrist into place. Haruhi's head snapped back in his direction.

"Kyouya—?"

"If you don't mind me saying, Haruhi, that was actually quite dreadful."

"Ah! Wait—!" Haruhi protested when he swooped down. But he kept the kiss cool. Slow, and gentle, his mouth slanted against hers and Haruhi fumbled to keep up. Her whole body was tingling now, and she felt Kyouya's fingertips graze against her cheek until he pulled her even closer. Until he softly laid her down and his body pressed against hers, a position not unlike the night before, only much more claustrophobic. And the kissing continued, methodical and smooth. All lips, little tongue. Everything fading into a dizzy buzz.

The people who said love was like oxygen were lying, Haruhi thought to herself. Love is not oxygen. It's complete lack of oxygen. It's choosing love _over_ oxygen. That's what Haruhi thought as she struggled to gulp a little bit of air between kisses. Kyouya sounded breathless too.

But as irrational as it was, neither of them minded the asphyxiation.


End file.
